


Flakes of gold and a smudge of rose

by psychomachia



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Anachronism Stew, Eldritch Horrors, F/M, Things Man Was Not Meant To Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 22:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/pseuds/psychomachia
Summary: All Audrey wants to do is to make some money, reclaim her position in society, and keep cosmic horrors from breaking through the veil separating them from humanity. But really, it's mostly the first two.





	Flakes of gold and a smudge of rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobberBaroness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/gifts).



### “I know a lovely doctor who owes me a favour...”

“You know,” Audrey says, as she leans over Hugh and touches his face, “it's actually rather funny the situation we're in.”

She pours a tiny bit of whiskey into her glass, then drops it to let it smash on the ground and swigs it out of the bottle instead. “Oh, I know you don't have a sense of humor, dear, but I do and I find this positively hilarious.”

It's a cold night, she thinks, and late. Most decent people should be asleep by now. Good thing she's no longer one of them. How long had she spent, she thinks, trying to keep up appearances? Pretending her husband wasn't out gambling and whoring while she entertained the most dreadful people? Wearing her fancy dresses, smiling prettily, and hoping that if she was the perfect wife, he'd stay home?

“I suppose I should have seen it coming,” Audrey muses, “when Father sold me to you not five minutes after mother was cold in the ground.” She pats his cheek and then wipes her hand on the handkerchief, her face crinkling in disgust. “We may have called it a betrothal, but let us be honest. You bought me just like you bought a house or one of your horses.”

“But fortunately for you, I provide a much better return than this crumbling pile of stone or your aging nags.” The rings are far easier to get off his hands now that the fingers have started rotting away. They slip easily into her pocket and the sharpened knife she took from the kitchen cuts through the seams of his coat like butter.

“Oh, I know I was so angry at you, my dear,” Audrey says, as she removes the coins from his eyes to reveal vacant sockets back at her. “You made it so society would turn its back on me once you were gone, left me with your debts, your lies, your 'friends' that all wanted a piece of what little we had left. If you hadn't already died, I believe I would have killed you.”

In the distance, she hears a clock chiming three times. Closer to her, she can hear the soft shuffle of footsteps. Her guest is nothing if not punctual.

“But it will be all right, Hugh.” She gets to her feet. “I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine from school. Yes, I know you didn't want me socializing with any of my more 'unsavory' acquaintances, but you were hardly one to judge and she is such a clever girl. I'm sure you two will get along tremendously.”

The figure approaches and Audrey straightens her hat. She buttons her coat, places her gleaming knife back in its sheath, and picks up the shovel from the ground. “For you see, my darling, it appears that contrary to what I first believed, you are worth far more dead than alive.”

 

### Damned and Forgotten

_\--have received word of your recent penury and feel compelled to offer some assistance. While I cannot spare much in the way of funds, for my own recent inheritance requires much to bring it to its former glory, there are opportunities to earn some capital. I know you to be of strong mind, and stronger stomach, and if you were willing to venture to my hamlet, it can surely provide you with enough gold to make it worth the journey._

Audrey snorts and tucks the letter back into her coat. “Worth the journey,” she murmurs. “We shall see.” From what she has seen so far of the town, with its haggard residents and squalid buildings, she doubts there is much to be gained from it.

Beside her, the cloaked figure nods. “If nothing else,” Paracelsus says quietly, “I shall gain much in the way of research here.” She sets a book back on the rotted bookshelf. “The journal entries here are most... illuminating.”

“The only illumination I care to see is the gleam of gold sparkling from our torch lights,” Audrey replies. “Words mean nothing when one has nothing to back them up with.”

“Ha!” The cry echoes triumphant throughout the hallway, followed by the sound of cracking rock and the clang of a shovel hitting the ground.

“I suppose you could have assisted in the matter,” Paracelsus whispers to Audrey. “You are no stranger to digging.”

“I shall not volunteer my services for free when there are those that are so much more eager to put in the effort.” She brushes the cobwebs from her coat and walks over to the mound of rubble. “I see that we may continue our journey.”

“Be vigilant,” Reynauld says, his voice as strong as his grip was when Audrey shook his hand. “There are brigands lurking about. Dismas and I encountered some on the Old Road, but we were able to fend them off.”

“Come now,” Dismas says, laying a companionable hand on his shoulder. “Let's not scare such a fine lady with this talk. She might take us for bandits ourselves.”

Audrey smiles. “Ah, but what if I already believe you to be ill-manned ruffians, who no doubt mean to take all that we acquire here.”

Dismas' answering grin is toothy and wide. “I am a penitent thief, dear lady,” he says. “I would not dream of robbing you.”

“I was not talking about you.”

Reynauld flushes. “I did not—I mean, it's only--” His stammers trail away and his hand unconsciously grips his pack a little tighter.

“We should keep moving,” Paracelsus says softly. “The light is starting to get dim.”

“Right you are,” Dismas says. “There'll be enough time to divide up the take later.”

“After you,” Audrey says, allowing Dismas and Reynauld to precede her. Her friend follows close behind, as the heavy wooden door swings open with a creak.

They step into the next room.

“Hell--” one of them says. It might be her.

And then it begins.

Eventually, after they stab, shoot, and bludgeon them enough times, the skeletons stop moving. Audrey kicks a few of the bone piles just for good measure and then bends down to remove the coins from their tattered purses.

Dismas crouches down next to her. “Well, now I know why they called a Crusader here,” he says. “And here I was thinking it was just going to be some common criminals like you and me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Audrey says. “I'm hardly common.”

He takes the buckle and polishes it with his sleeve. “Still up for wandering these halls? Or do you want to head home, get a drink, and forget about all this madness?”

Audrey shakes her head. “I didn't come this far to leave with nothing. It just means I have to put the bodies in the ground first before I can take their gold.”

Dismas stands up and offers his hand to her. She takes it and he pulls her up, his calloused hand gripping hers tightly.

“And you?” she asks, as Paracelsus finishes bandaging Reynauld up. “Are you going to go back home?”

His smile this time doesn't reach his eyes. “Not if I don't have a home to go back to.”

 

### Firing Squad

“There's more where that came from!” Margaret calls out and Audrey rolls her eyes. She always did have a flair for the dramatic, even back at school, and it's a wonder that the entire Weald hasn't descended upon them.

But no time to reminisce now. Audrey lunges at some sort of twisted creature, something that must have been a man at some point, but now resembles a horrifying mass of fungus, flesh, and bone. She connects and it lets out a horrible screech before collapsing.

Behind her, she hears a bark. “Nice work, lass,” William says, and she watches the flash of teeth as his dog rips through the last of the creatures.

“Are you sure it's safe for her to eat that?” she asks.

“She's had worse,” he says. “At least this poor devil didn't choose their fate.”

Audrey's seen him polishing an old badge in the firelight, so she can guess where he came from. It's all she can do not to twitch since he might have been the one to bring her to justice, back in the day.

“Fate happens whether or not you choose it,” Audrey says. “The only thing that matters is if you can profit from it.”

“Well said,” Tardif says, his hand casually gripping his axe as he walks up to them. “We should set up camp soon.”

Margaret's next to him, all smiles, which sets Audrey's teeth on edge. “I'm famished,” she says. “And I need to clean my musket.”

“Then let us set up here,” William says. “I'll take watch.”

But Audrey's not ready to sleep, too filled with nervous energy and that buzzing that's filled her ever since she stepped foot in the hamlet. It's a strange elation that fills her with a perverse glee.

“How many adventurers does it take to die in a pit?” she jests, and watches as faces glaze over in confusion at first. A step too far, she wonders? Will she see their faces turn to shock, to disgust, to horror at her humor at at a time such as this?

But then William starts laughing and Margaret and Tardif join him.

“A nasty joke,” William says. “But any laugh is welcome in a place such as this.”

She smiles at him. “If you want the answer, it's all of them.”

An hour later, the fire is crackling and Audrey's feeling a little more sane. A little more human.

“I must say, it was a bit of a shock to see you her,” Margaret says. “You were never involved in the hunt, no matter how many times Elizabeth invited you. And yet here you are, at her request I presume, to engage in the greatest hunt of them all.”

“Maybe I missed seeing old friends?” Audrey shrugs. “Can't a girl want to catch up with her acquaintances and perhaps make some lucre?”

She's delighted to see Margaret look taken aback. “I had heard you had some difficulties,” Margaret says delicately, “But to see you changed this considerably...”

“We've all changed, Margaret,” Audrey says. “Some of us just see it more than others.”

She expects Margaret to scoff or jeer, but she just looks thoughtful. “Seeing has never been my problem,” Margaret finally says.

They both stare into the fire for quite some time after that.

William comes over to her just as Audrey's eyes are growing heavy and the fire is banked to keep it ready for the morning.

“May I ask you a question?” His eyes are grave and he has his hand on his hound's nape, gently patting it as the dog lets out a huge yawn.

“Yes?”

“Do you think it's that we change or is it that we never knew who we were at all?”

Her nightmares come as a welcome relief.

 

### Wine, Women, Song

“I don't believe there's enough wine in all of Christendom to make me forget what we just saw,” Audrey says. She's favoring her right leg slightly, and Sarmenti is propping up a babbling Junia, but other than that, they seemed to have made it out relatively unscathed.

“Come now,” Dismas says, patting her on the shoulder. “Surely a writhing mass of flesh is a commonplace sight. Why I venture to say the brothel would scarce bat an eye at it.”

Audrey shudders. “Speak to me not of these things. My stomach is turning enough from that sight.”

“The shadows are crawling. This place is alive with evil!”

“She's not wrong.” Dismas glances back. “Still, I suspect she'll need to spend some time in the Abbey before she's of any use again.”

“Presuming Elizabeth doesn't just send her home on the next coach.” Audrey bares her teeth. “My old friend does know when to cut her losses after all.”

“What fool would wish to take her place?”

“If the full coaches that arrive each week are any marker, there are plenty willing to risk themselves. I can hardly get a seat at the tavern anymore.”

Dismas laughs. “Well, I will make sure to save you one just as soon as--”

He stops. The smoke can be seen even from here.

“As soon as the hamlet stops burning.” Audrey finishes. “Just what did we miss?”

The bellowing of the crier reaches them. “Flames on the horizon, sulfur in the air, the wolves are at the door!!”

“No,” Audrey says.

In the distance, they see the caretaker shuffling up to them.

“Deliver me, oh holy Flame...”

“Somehow, I doubt fire will save us in this instance.” Audrey sighs. “Let us pray instead at least one us gets the chance to rest.”

Hours later, after they lose Rozaelin to a unfortunately timed bomb and Barristan is bleeding badly, Sarmenti's sickle strikes the main bandit down in a blur of blood and bone.

Finally done with this horrific day, Audrey stumbles her way back into the tavern, still smoking and battered from cannon fire. Dismas passes a waiting glass over to her.

“Survived, did we? A bit worried I might have to find a new place to drink.”

“Charming,” she says. “Your love is great indeed.”

“Perhaps that's how I show it,” he says, and he looks over at a nearby table. “But if it helps, I'm not the only one waiting for you.”

William sits there, his hound at his feet. There is an empty chair next to him.

“And just leave you alone?” Audrey says. “It's not wise to drink by yourself.”

Dismas smiles wryly. “Oh, I've been doing that for quite some time. But don't worry,” he adds. “I'll go pay a visit to my friend in the Abbey. Now that it's no longer on fire.”

“Let Reynauld know that I've forgiven him for taking that trinket,” she says. “But I haven't forgotten.”

Dismas inclines his head, then makes his way out through the throng of people fighting for a chair.

Audrey picks up her glass, takes a large gulp, and makes her way over. William's quiet presence will be a welcome relief.

 

### Death Sentence

The anchor hits her and she's drowning. Water rushes into her lungs. She can't breathe, can't scream, can't do anything but watch as everyone goes down into the darkness with her.

Her mind breaks.

_Off with my head! A capital idea!_

The buzzing in her brain is all she can hear. She opens her mouth to laugh, only to find more water rushing in.

_The lock is broken, the casket unsealed..._

The chain breaks and she's coughing, her lungs heaving up brackish water. It's funny. Even Hugh would laugh at this. Maybe she should send him a letter, let him know what delight she's having here.

Oh, he's dead, she remembers. She should find her shovel, ask Paracelsus where she buried the remains.

_Deary, the sailors hover about you like moths on a lantern!_

There are people yelling and she really wishes they'd stop. She throws a dagger in front of her at the skeletons because the dead shouldn't be walking around, they should be sleeping in their graves. The nerve of some people.

A sharp pain in her side.

_What a bloody mess you've made. Andrea, fetch the maid._

More shots. More stabbing. More chains. That strange man's hands reach out and tentacles lash around the bones. Screaming. The lady with the blade leaps and brings it down on them.

_Oh, lovely! Yes, the pink silk one. Beautiful!_

The bones finally go to sleep. There's nothing but dripping and the smell of salt water in the air. It's really a beautiful day, isn't it. A bit of a breeze and she might get a chill if she doesn't dry up soon, but she doesn't want to spoil the picnic.

“We're leaving,” a voice says in her ear. “You'll be all right.”

Oh, it's the nice man with the dog. “Tell the maid to fetch my wrap, kind sir. The snow is something fierce.”

She comes back to herself a week later, a glass of whiskey at her side. The dog whines and noses at her leg. “What drivel I have been speaking,” she says. “Please forgive me for it.”

William nods. “We are all a little mad now,” he says. “You are not even the worst of it.”

“I wonder if Elizabeth will send me away now that I have proven my mind to be a weakness,” she says. The alcohol burns on its way down her still battered throat.

“The money to restore you would say otherwise.”

“Then I am still of use to her,” Audrey says, and wonders if she feels dread or relief at those words.

 

### Trial and Conviction

There is no one left, she thinks, to do this. She should be terrified by this realization, but she feels a strange calm instead. When there is no choice, you make your peace with what you have to do. It's the same peace she felt when her father told her who she was marrying, but at least this time, she probably won't have to live with it.

William rouses from his sickbed. His eyes are bleary, but they focus on her. She's watching him so she can see the moment when he understands what's about to happen. “No,” he says, struggling to sit up.

“I'm afraid so,” she replies. “It appears that most of us are... unsuitable for this final endeavor. I take it as the honor it is that I have been selected.”

“You can't.” His face is pale, no doubt from a combination of blood loss and horror. “I've been there. It's...” he trails off, his hand clutching at the thin sheet.

Audrey waits patiently as he gathers himself. She saw what they looked like when they came back, barely walking scraps of flesh and bone covered in viscera, unable to move more than a few steps in the hamlet before they collapsed.

She asked Paracelsus where Tardif was once her friend had regained consciousness.

“Blood in my eyes... blood in my throat.. blood...”

Audrey did not ask her again.

“I left my position,” William says, “when I discovered what my fellow lawmen were up to. It was so terrible I could not countenance it and I resolved to never let such things happen again. What I have seen here is just as horrible and I thought I was prepared. But what I saw in that dungeon--”

She takes his shaking hand as he closes his eyes. One of his bandages is growing dark with blood and she will have to ask one of the doctors to come in to change it. Perhaps if Rozaelin has gotten over her unexpected return from the dead, she will be able to assist.

“You don't have to tell me,” Audrey says. “I'd rather not know what hell I'm letting myself be dragged into.”

“No,” William says. “I can't tell you because I don't want you to know what's down there. I won't go back there, but you shouldn't go there at all.”

“But there's no one else.” Audrey smiles. If this is the last time he's going to see her before going off to face something that if she's lucky will drive her mad before it destroys her, she wants William to see her at her best. It's been a long time before she truly cared about such a thing, and she finds it simultaneously exasperating and thrilling.

“Please--”

She kisses him once. “The doctor should be in soon to give you some laudanum. Please sleep. If I don't see you--”

“Audrey.”

“Tell them I was a lady to the very end.”

She exits the room, nodding her head to the doctor. Outside, Dismas and Reynauld are waiting. Junia is finishing a prayer over one of the poor souls in their beds.

Dismas whistles. “Such a cold girl, you are. Surely you could have given your lover some comfort, let him believe for a bit that you weren't walking into certain death.”

“I've had enough of lies,” she says. “And he knows me better than that. Shall we go, gentlemen?”

“Onto oblivion,” he says cheerfully, and she tells herself she feels no regret.

 

### Hell is in the Heart

She will never be able to explain to anyone what she saw there. William was right in it defying words, for it defies sanity, defies rationality, defies all rules of reality and humanity in general.

The old man is easy enough, she thinks. She's dealt with men like him before, who get in over their heads and think they can pass the cost onto another. They kill the copies, kill the summoned, kill the one who started this mess with a pistol shot. It's a surprisingly mundane end.

But what follows--

She thinks they're winning at first. They hit it hard, hit it fast. It seems so simple.

“I-it's too horrible! Noooo!”

Junia's cries reverberate through the stone walls and echo in her head. Her death--

She keeps herself steady. Thinks of what happens if they all fall here. Audrey readies her dagger again and throws it, sinking it into--

They keep hacking away, with sword and pistol and axe and dagger. It has to end here.

“No way out, hmph. ”

Audrey looks at Dismas. He's bleeding heavily, but he smiles at her, then turns to the nightmare.

“Let's do this.”

And he's gone.

The rest is a blur of blood and tears and her teeth gritting so tight she thinks they might crack. She can feel Reynauld at her side, furious with anger and pain and a damn big sword that's bludgeoning whatever he can reach.

The final lunge with her dagger strikes true.

It is an end.

 

### "Look at you, all heroic."

“I can't say I'll miss this place,” Audrey says, as she tightens the straps on her pack. “I won't miss being in constant fear for my life. I won't miss getting called night after night to go off to fight some dreadful horror before realizing that my only payment will be a few gold coins. I definitely won't miss not being able to get a decent drink.

She bends down. “I will miss you, however. Both of you, really.” There's a few pitiful flowers on the stones and she supplements them with a couple of trinkets she... liberated a while ago.

Audrey stands up, brushing the dirt off her knees.

“I would have buried you with her,” she says to one of the silent stones, “but you never told me where she was. It's hard to dig someone up when you don't have an address.”

Dismas says nothing. It doesn't suit him to be so quiet.

“Still, you're at peace now.”

Audrey can't say the same thing about the other stone. Poor Elizabeth. What must have been in her head when she realized the extent of her inheritance? Doomed to repeat the same thing her forefather did?

But that was not her concern anymore. Whatever horrors she had faced, she no longer had the stomach to fight them anymore. Let the younger ones come, dash themselves into pieces upon the estate, some day far in a future she did not dare to imagine. 

She was going home.

“Are you ready?” William stands there, holding onto a cane. His dog whines beside him and Audrey walks over to gently scratch her head. The dog closes her eyes in total happiness.

“I think I am,” Audrey says. She takes his hand in her left hand, holds her dagger in the right.

Society won't know what hit them.


End file.
